


king of saigon

by filkins



Series: No place for beginners (or sensitive hearts) [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Established Relationship, Homophobic Language, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 10:26:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16852309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/filkins/pseuds/filkins
Summary: Kim Mingyu isn’t the type of guy with whom Wonwoo should be messing with, this he knows for sure, even if this knowledge has never stopped him from doing so for the past three years.





	king of saigon

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t even know. The idea popped in my head and it consumed me for two days until I could get my hands on my laptop and write it down. This was the result. 
> 
> (The implied violence doesn’t involve Mingyu or Wonwoo as a couple and they don't cause each other any physical harm. They’re as functional as their current situation allows them to be.)

Kim Mingyu isn’t the type of guy with whom Wonwoo should be messing with, this he knows for sure, even if this knowledge has never stopped him from doing so for the past three years.

 

The thing is he can’t even blame it on being naive and a baby at the time they met, because, well, he’s one year older than Mingyu and has lived in the streets for time enough to distinguish good from bad and all its nuances.

 

Red flags jumped from all directions the exact moment they met just outside the club. Mingyu asked for one of his smokes and Wonwoo lent him the last Marlboro of his packet, apologizing for not having taken his lighter with him. He mindlessly mentioned that his mom believed that lightning up a brand new smoke off of someone’s own was supposed to transfer one’s bad luck to another, but Mingyu leaned in to light up his lent smoke on Wonwoo's either way.

 

Mingyu had that mischievous glint in his eyes and that conceited smile that screamed how bad of an idea he was yet whilst managing to sweep Wonwoo off his feet, his heart skipping five beats at once and have him falling hard at first glance. Mingyu was bad news but Wonwoo would rather pretend to be mistaken in favor of sharing his smoking break with the tall, tan and handsome man he had found casually leaning against one of the lamp post of the shittiest side of the city, shittiest city too.

 

It only got proved after minutes of a half-assed convo about superstitions, when Lee Jihoon left said club and Mingyu tossed his smoke on the sidewalk pavement and stepped on it with his grey New Balance sneakers. He told Wonwoo he would catch him on another moment instead of an usual goodbye, eyes hooked on his, same way they had been for the entirety of their short exchange. Then Mingyu got to the driver seat of a stupid Ford parked parallel to the curb to drive Jihoon back to wherever the criminal’s headquarters were located at the time.

 

It should have been final. Trouble has a thing for the underworld creatures however and came back to the shady club Mingyu did. Often enough to have Wonwoo believing that maybe they could make it work.

 

For once he wasn’t wrong.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“I’ve just dug up the perfect opportunity for you to drag that newbie away from him without looking like a crazy jealous boyfriend. Thank me later.”

 

Wonwoo finishes returning two empty old fashioned glasses to Chan, who is takes his usual position behind the bar counter making drinks, and recounts the few times he had a feeling to being watched during the night. His own personal bodyguard habitually makes his presence prominent without being too obvious and for this he is thankful.

 

The warehouse where the strip club is sheltered is bursting at the seams, all tables occupied with people in their mid-twenties and the girls up the stage dressed in neon colored bikinis wiggle their butts to guys who have the time of their lives watching them. Given the hour, some of the girls don’t have their top on anymore and Wonwoo could have guessed it only by the amount of guys that came by the bar to ask Chan to change their money for smaller bills in order to tip the dancers as soon as the clock struck midnight.

 

Mingyu however isn’t below the stage tucking $1 to the girls’ lingeries in an attempt of coaxing some special treatment out of them like the others. He never is, doesn’t really have to, because even if he occupies one of the booths on the back with his friends of Jihoon’s crew and seems to be oblivious to the show the strippers are putting on the pole dance, a more desperate girl has found him and tries to score an easy lay (tip included!) at this exact moment.

 

Wonwoo hasn’t seen him since early morning of Tuesday and now Friday has just begun. Definitely not their personal record of days without seeing each other, but it’s funny how he has chosen this night in special to visit the club. Good God, it seems Mingyu has gone soft.

 

He plops his elbows over the sticky countertop and stares at Chan. His pastel pink hair and the glasses give him a young feel, but the drunks respect him like no other member of the staff. He holds all the power over the alcohol served in the club after all.

 

“Yeah, about that. I ain’t no hubby, this is definitely not how I roll. I’m not a killjoy either.”

  

Chan rolls his eyes to the ceiling, nearly giving himself a retinal detachment.

 

“I should’ve seen it coming, I really should,” he complains and pushes a bottle to the counter. Wonwoo eyes the brandy label that could pay at least one month rent of his apartment. “Aight. C’mon, help your brother out and please take this to their table either way. Seungcheol called me over to his office and told me to send this in his name to our special clients on the back.”

 

“You have to be kidding me.”

 

“On the house,” Chan clips his words sending him a funny look that Wonwoo gets immediately. This isn’t negotiable.

 

Wonwoo wraps his fingers around the bottleneck and protects the bottom, securely keeping the precious bottle inside his grasp, and heads off to the back of the club to avoid the main hallway to their table. All the beer the drunk guys who break the club’s only rule — which is not groping the girls unless they give their blessing — drop whilst being dragged by the security and escorted to the exit doors most nights than not, makes the floor slippery and Wonwoo is really trying to not fucking it up with the bottle in his hands.

 

At the booth, the girl who has joined the club just the previous week is sitting right on Mingyu’s side, fingers just above his knee, lips delivering words to the shell of his ear through a feline smile that she wears brilliantly well. Her exposed collarbones glisten with the sweat brimming on her skin due to the lack of proper ventilation at this side of the warehouse and a tawdry beam of blue lights hanging from the adjacent wall hits her flat stomach just right, making the oil all the strippers put on to perform to look like glitter on her pale skin.

 

Mingyu has his limbs spread, arms gripping at the back of the booth sofa and a head slightly cocking away from her lips, not looking exactly interested in putting up with her advances. His face is safe beneath the dark surroundings however — the girl has monopolized all the light directed to the back to the club to herself.

 

By their side, Seokmin is passed out above the round table, arms pillowing his head. Minghao is sat across from them, watching with amused drooping eyes his friend getting lucky with the prettiest girl of the night.

 

The last guy on their table is Jihoon. His fine, delicate facial features are into view due to the light coming from phone he seems to busy himself with, thumb scrolling the screen down and eyes less than interested in whatever is going on between his boys and the fine stripper.

 

Wonwoo places the present on their table. “Seungcheol sent this bottle,” he says lacking enthusiasm albeit proud for have gotten there without major trouble.

 

His arrival barely changes anything for seconds to end. Of course Mingyu’s eyes land on his frame, but he decides not to reciprocate it yet. Mingyu says he hides behind this petty persona whenever they’re out or in his friends’ presence and he isn’t wrong. Wonwoo would rather put on his coldest endeavor than to feign adoration like the rest.

 

“Fo’ real?? That’s so kind,” Minghao slurres and points a lazy finger towards the bottle. Wonwoo never knows when the Chinese is being sarcastic, so he settles for assuming he’s always set on this mode. “Seungcheol is a good guy, he really is.”

 

Jihoon looks up at Wonwoo, finding newly achieved interest with his arrival. “Hey there, Wonwoo. How are you doing?”

 

“What’s up?”

 

Although Wonwoo greets Jihoon out of manners, the man lowers his phone and places it on the vacant seat by his side, willing to keep the conversation going.

 

“All good. If I knew you’d come round I wouldn’t have asked our lady friend here to entertain Gyu. Heh. I should have known better, but that’s my bad.”

 

‘My bad’ his ass.

 

For someone who loathes his boys’ slip ups, Jihoon forgives his own way too easily when it comes to Wonwoo. Slipping up meaning how keen he is on riling him up in the rare occasions in which they get to move past the usual round of initial greetings. He would be definitely amused to watch Wonwoo fall apart and make a scene out of jealousy.

 

Such as a sadistic, the man takes unfeigned pleasure in tormenting one of his favorite targets, occasionally making stingy remarks that question his loyalty to Mingyu and consequently to his entire crew, as if Wonwoo would ever agree to jeopardize Mingyu’s well-being whatsoever.

 

In this life, however, the rules are different from the outer world and loyalty has very little to do with you whether having a stripper on your lap or not; it means anything else — sticking around to kiss it better and putting up with all the kinds of bad stuff that can eventually happen.

 

“But don't worry, I’m making sure they keep it PG. We wouldn't want to disrespect you like that.”

 

Uninterested in Jihoon’s wicked games Wonwoo brushes it off with raised brows and picks up the bottle of liquor the four of them have managed to empty already to discard it in one of the trash cans behind the counter.

 

“You should seat with us! Tonight's a special night!”

 

“I’m working, unlike you guys. Can’t give myself the luxury of sitting down to drink with customers, can I?”

 

“Oh, but we did work incredibly hard for the entire week. Tonight we’re celebrating the results and everything Mingyu is consuming is on me. Not like he needs it after what he’s done to earn a big, fat bonus that could pay the tab of all the customers in the house tonight, but I wanted to do that to show him how thankful I am.”

 

Wonwoo isn’t particularly interested in learning the details of what Mingyu does on his work hours, but he does know that it has something, anything or everything to do with the incredibly violent way in which they take care of things. Being thankful means Mingyu has made Jihoon a big favor better than anybody he has seen do it.

 

Violent and most certainly stupid too. The type of shit that can send Mingyu straight to a grave without having a saying in it, because even if Jihoon sits down on a shit club to treat him with all the booze he can have and pretends this – whatever he’s done – is a simple favor, Jihoon is still his boss at the end of the day.

 

Although aware that doing his dirty work it’s one of Mingyu’s duties since he’s got himself into it, Wonwoo isn’t familiar with the details his job entails or if Mingyu can simply drop out whenever he wants to if he eventually gets fed up of this life. Wonwoo has learned the basics during these past years, the sufficient just to get by and not being caught in their mess. Sure his life experience has taught him a bit of everything, such as perching up his ears to his surroundings – whenever Mingyu accepts a call from one of the boys he will get tips of what’s going on this time around — and mastering the ability of coaxing one or two vague explanations out of a sleepy Mingyu without actually asking anything.

 

He can’t say for sure at which extent, but Mingyu’s life seems to be ceaselessly at stake.

 

“I hope all this sudden generosity also means the girl is treated with a good tip, since she is willing to lose her precious time with a guy who is clearly not into it.”

 

It’s kind of nice how the boys go silence for the following seconds and Wonwoo gets the upper hand, but it’s too bad the girl feels like her services aren’t needed anymore and she’s become a fifth wheel at the table, getting up to leave, ridiculously large breast implants bouncing as she moves to try her luck on another table. Her departure is collateral damage; Wonwoo was throwing daggers at Jihoon.

 

Jihoon whistles with delight and watches her go. They all do. For a moment, the girl commands the place.

 

“Wonwoo. Damn. You aced this situation! No harsh words needed because you have this mean streak in you! This is rare! We could definitely use you in our business, how does it sound?”

 

“Easy. He bites,” Minghao says with a soft chuckle and smiles proudly at Wonwoo, nose scrunching and teeth showing on purpose just so he can show off the blood staining his gums, the red left at the tip of the tongue poking out between his teeth.

 

“Indeed,” Mingyu agrees with the tiniest hint of amusement in his voice. He’s gets proud like this when he gets to witness Wonwoo standing for himself. It can pass without noticing if you’re not stupidly in love with him. But Wonwoo definitely is, so he can tell.

 

Wonwoo does a double take and fetches Seokmin’s half-empty glass. He doesn’t look like he has been using it for quite some time, considering how gone he is already.

 

“Although I'm flattered for such a delightful invite, no, thank you. I’ll bring water and something to wake Seokmin up before he has to be taken to the hospital due to an alcoholic poisoning.”

 

Jihoon assures him the offer still stands and that he’ll always have a place for him in his crew, but Wonwoo turns around to leave, unbothered as to bid them a goodbye and good night (maybe even a good luck!). A table of underage teens that are probably sneaking off from their houses to celebrate someone’s birthday gesture for him to approach.

 

Wonwoo is promising to get back to their table with more beer when, from the corner of his eyes, he sees a shadow get up from the booth on the back and loom on his direction, two shots of that brandy tequila that Seungcheol sent as a proof of his commitment to the crew after Jihoon has secured him that he’d keep the cops away of his very own shady strip club.

 

Mingyu makes a show out of squeezing between the sweaty bodies of customers swaying to the shit sexy playlist that booms through the several speakers set all around the insides of the warehouse, even if it’s highly unlikely that he doesn’t notice how girlfriends tug their boyfriends closer to their embrace to remove them from Mingyu’s way the moment they spot him in the crowd, out of fear of the repercussions of pissing off a mobster.

 

No one man should have all that power.

 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Mingyu calls and stops him from returning to the counter.

 

He forgets whatever the teenagers on the table next to where they stand are have asked him and keeps still, as if he’s tied to the disgusting wet floor. The crowd has opened for only the two of them and everybody seem to avoid getting too close. 

 

He watches Mingyu for a moment. The warehouse lightning system may suck just like everything else related to the poor taste club, but the beans of light that flickers to the feverish beat of music reveals a fake stitch added to a fresh cut on Mingyu’s upper cheek.

 

It’s been at least a few hours since whatever the younger had to take care of went down and Wonwoo knows now his injuries are nearly as bad as they must have been earlier.

 

Life has also taught him not to ask if hearing the reply terrifies him. So he lets it slide without pointing out the injury and accepts the shot pushed to his hand, right arm managing to hold tight both a bottle and Seokmin’s cup. His eyes drop to the transparent liquid filling his shot to the brim.

 

Mingyu intertwines his arm on Wonwoo’s free one and nudges his shot against his. “Three years,” the man clarifies as his glassy eyes encourage him to drink from his raised glass of tequila. “Here’s to us and to six months more.”

 

They used to be like the other couples in this sense once, wishing to be together for years and years on, but at some point things have gotten obscure to the point of mutually understanding that maybe Mingyu wouldn’t live this long anyways if things end up getting out of hand. If things get terribly out of hand, then neither would Wonwoo. So, with Mingyu’s lifestyle being as erratic as it is now, they settle for wishing to have at least six more months together, and consider it a victory whenever it's time for them to celebrate their relationship again.

 

“Yeah.” He gulps it at once as Mingyu does the same, eyes on him. Wonwoo squirms a bit. For the shortest moment the liquid opens holes in his throat, but then Mingyu offers him a honey-like smile and he becomes more tolerant to it. “To six months more.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wonwoo is panting non-stop, lost in the pleasure of being filled up so nicely by Mingyu, who drives himself inside of him in slow, deep thrusts, taking him from behind. His large left hand and thick fingers slicked with the stupid strawberry flavored lube he insists on buying at the convenience store down the block grip at his right shoulder to keep him steady even if he’s on all fours, ass and back exposed for Mingyu and Mingyu only.

 

They had left the club as soon as his shift ended at around four, leaving Mingyu’s crew on the same booth they were the only time Wonwoo interacted with their group throughout the night, and drove to their apartment complex, only a few streets away. Seungcheol had apparently sent more bottles, but Wonwoo refused to be part of that shit-show and ceaselessly sent the presents their way through a co-worker, dreaming of heading home to sleep by himself, but Mingyu awaited for him outside the club, leaning against his car like a conceited prick who knew that Wonwoo could use a ride after serving tables for an entire shift.

 

Albeit previously planning to bury his face on his pillow and pass out for as long as he could, upon their arrival Wonwoo was climbing to bed and straddling Mingyu's lap with new tantalizing purpose, a leg on each side of his hips to undress the man out of his dark clothes and put away the gun he’d always carry on his hips however never really allows Wonwoo to see, let alone touch. If not tucked on the waistband of his pants, the pistol may be found on the bottom of one of the drawers of their old nightstand. For easy access, Mingyu says.

 

“This strawberry scent sickens me,” he says with a scratch on his voice, attempting to keep grounded for a couple more minutes. His soul wants to leave his body, take the stairway to heaven and present his already feeble body to Mingyu so he can have him his way.

 

Wisps of hot breath touch the shell of his ear, having the taller dove down to speak to him at short distance. “What’s making you sick now are your organs squeezing and making way to accommodate my massive cock inside of you.”

 

“God, ain’t you delusional.” Another thrust. Fucking Kim Mingyu. A moan. “Standard lube works just fine. Same results guarantee.”

 

“I know. Just think the bottle is nicer.”

 

“Freak.”

 

Wonwoo receives a hard pinch to his right nipple as a punishment and cries out as result. His arms start shuddering, the weight of Mingyu’s body on top of his becoming too much for his thin frame to handle. Then Mingyu straightens his toned upper body and goes back to kneeling behind him, delivering a sharp thrust that unrelenting nails Wonwoo’s prostate dead on.

 

He gives a desperate moan and his brain gets immediately giddy, pleasure rippling through him from inside out.

 

Mingyu’s is the man and shows off all of his prowess when it comes to it. Sex, of course, but also catching him by surprise in the middle of important thoughts. Love is bad when you’re fighting for survival and Wonwoo’s screwed because he’s drowning in the feeling since the very beginning.

 

Screwing his eyes shut, he moans one more time as Mingyu picks up a new pace. No more slow thrusts, only quick ones. The younger pistons his hips, increasing the sound of skin on skin filling their room and his hand slides down the sweaty and fair skin of Wonwoo’s back, finding shelter at his narrow hips so he can yank him backwards to meet the slam of his hips.

 

The bed creaks and Wonwoo feels like screaming in the same high pitched tone. “Fuck, Gyu,” he says, sinking on his forearms and elbows to a more comfortable position, ass being held up in the air by Mingyu’s brutal grip.

 

The meat of his ass cheeks are starting to go numb and so are his arms. He’s struggling to keep the weight of his body balanced but Mingyu’s got him.

 

“Fuck,” Mingyu says and pulls out nearly completely, leaving only the tip inside, poking at the rim from inside out. Picturing Mingyu naked and all sweaty whilst admiring the place in which their bodies are connected elicits a dragged, needy moan out of Wonwoo.

 

The position is good–no, great. But what he wouldn’t give now to be taken in any other position that would allow him to see Mingyu’s blissed out although concentrated face. 

 

“Nu. You. So. So good.” He punctuate each word with a harsh snap of his hips and stops, keeping it inside, tip now pressing that bundle of muscles inside Wonwoo instead of persistently prodding it.

 

He thinks he feels the dick inside of him twitching, and his own hard and reddening member is eager to respond, warning how close the both of them are already, how much of a match made in hell they are every time they get to near their orgasms together.

 

“Move. Just–”

 

“I am.”

 

Yes, Mingyu is moving all over – circling his own hips and stimulating him, crotch nuzzling Wonwoo’s cheeks in such intimate fashion, fingers gripping tight at each side of his hips, the pads of his thumb drawing perfect ellipses on his skin. This is not enough however. Wonwoo is eager to have the bed creaking again as Mingyu plunges fast and steady inside him and his compliant hips buckle in desperation at Mingyu’s mercy until the man eventually cums and coats his walls with pearly white bliss.

 

“No, no, no. You go back to what you were doing before!”

 

Wonwoo threatens to fuck himself on his cock then, but decides to be a good boy when an appreciative and particular press of Mingyu’s grasp reminds him the muscles of his hips are getting sore from all this work out.

 

To ease his partner, Mingyu does that again, pistons his hips targeting his prostate. One, two, three times. Wonwoo groans at the delicious prickling sensation sending a new set of cold shivers running down his spine.

 

Then it stops. The younger is descending again to kiss the back of his neck, nibble at the curve where his shoulders begin and one or two bites are added there. It’ll look terrible in broad daylight, but Wonwoo can’t bring himself to care. Not when Mingyu goes back to circling his hips in the awkward position and providing his spot with the smallest nudge.

 

“You’re close to cumming. Have to slow down, Nu. Wanna cum with you,” the other says in between kisses being added to his nape, ear and space between his shoulder blades. “Always in a rush.”

 

“Or you could just–“ A pant escapes his lips as he manages to throw his body backwards and press their bodies tighter. “–Hurry yourself up. Am I not good enough for you anymore?”

 

Mingyu snorts but the way he ploughs into him says his idea has been accepted. This time he doesn’t stop, something in the back of Wonwoo telling him that his partner has taken his words as a challenge and he may end up regretting saying them at all.

 

The snap of their hips gets frantic, messier, no pattern being noticed now. Wonwoo’s ass is full of cock, that’s everything needed to know. Mingyu is panting too and it’s divine how hard he’s going, pulling himself out to the tip only to jab it against his prostate each time. The bed creaks now repeatedly, yes!, and if their neighbors are up already, they definitely know what the heck is going on inside their apartment. Wonwoo’s desperate, slut-ish pleas leave no doubt.

 

Wonwoo shudders again on the mattress and counts on Mingyu to keep his hips on place. He buries his face on their sheets, finding a so-so angle to snake an arm down his own stomach and to his crotch to get himself off. He tugs his dick trying to match with the rhythm his prostate is being assaulted, but gives up soon enough, jerking it in his own rhythm, thumb flicking at the slit and fist somewhat massaging his balls anytime it slides down his length.

 

He moans on the sheets and Mingyu moans on his hair, face buried on the damp scalp, pouring sweet I missed yous at the dark strands. With Mingyu’s cock twitching inside, it’s suddenly too much. Wonwoo feels weaker, stomach churning, body tensing up altogether, Mingyu’s weight almost totally on him whilst making him feel so his, orgasm building up and the urge to scream even louder for Mingyu to keep going makes him clench repeatedly around the length.

 

Mingyu is nearing too. Wonwoo knows, just does.

 

He is coming and painting the bed sheets with spurts of release the next moment. Mingyu comes inside of him, filling him of his warm and generous load. Wonwoo continues to moan even after he’s done, the stretch of a debauched Mingyu pulling in and out of him in dragged and delicate thrusts ripping spent notes off his throat.

 

Mingyu does it for what feels an eternity, then pulls out for good, eliciting a low wince from Wonwoo. The younger kneels again and rolls Wonwoo’s slim frame over to kiss him on the lips with eagerness, a strong grasp holding his jaw on place whilst he fucks his tongue inside and tastes Wonwoo’s own. Wonwoo yelps in surprise, but melts on it right away giving in to his satisfying post-orgasmic bliss, a sore arm moving to the back of Mingyu’s neck to pull him even closer.

 

The younger withdraws from his odd embrace after peppering four kisses to the corner of Wonwoo’s lips and rolls his nakedness next to his on their bed. Wonwoo flops his head back to his pillow and cocks it slightly to check the window. The sun rises without rush between the buildings that surround their apartment complex, the light comes through the open blinds.

 

He is satisfied to have Mingyu for himself for at least a couple hours. It was just expected that the two of them would gather to celebrate their third anniversary only a couple hours before the sunrise, the couple plugged to each other in the most sinful way while the rest of the world sleeps.

 

His eyes move to stare at the ceiling, feeling the mess he made with his body fluids cool down and stick to the bare skin of his back. He feels gross but can’t bring himself to get up. There’s a small, sated smile on his lips even if he’s leaking between his legs thanks to Mingyu rocking into him after orgasming.

 

He is in love.

 

From the corner of his eyes, he sees a snippet of the small and delicate ‘WW’ tattoo that takes refuge on Mingyu’s chest (left side!), this pitching up and down as his breath evens. And Mingyu smirks at him, same way he did that first night. It’s wicked in a way, but also appealing. It makes Wonwoo’s heart flutter in the most helpless way. He’s bound to fall even harder every time because Mingyu doesn’t make it easy for him.

 

“You know what you do to me, don’t you? I belong to you.” Mingyu heaves a sigh with enviable calm for someone who has been punched sometime in the span of the last three days. “I've been thinking about moving out. Finding myself a more distant place to crash on during the day, maybe on the other side of town and close to the boys, not sure yet.”

 

Their smiles vanish within milliseconds. Wonwoo’s lips become a thin line, nothing pretty about it. Mingyu’s curve downwards and he shifts on bed, moving closer to test the waters.

 

That’s fucked up. Of course nothing would change between them with Mingyu moving out, but that’s fucked up. He can’t just move out like this.

 

“Just… This can become an unsafe place for you in the future if I continue living here and you're always nagging me about how you like living two blocks away from your job. It wouldn’t be fair if you had to eventually move out. I have beef with some shitty people and I wouldn’t want for them to use you as a way to get back at me.”

 

Wonwoo clasps his hands above his stomach as a defensive reaction. "Shitty people just like your boss."

 

"Not like that," Mingyu groans quietly because he’s a hypocrite. But it’s alright, because Wonwoo’s one too.

 

"Exactly like that. He makes you deal with awful people all the time on behalf of his shady business. This shit can kill you, Mingyu,” he bristles, brows scrunching in the middle. “‘Not like that’. Fuck you, what are you on about?!"

 

"I'm smarter than most people I deal with every day. Graduated first of my class in high school. Been doing this for quite sometime too, ya know? That must count for something."

 

He shifts positions and stares at Mingyu, finally. He’s angry and his heart is fucking clenching because if Mingyu wasn’t so caught up in this business, they’d never need to part. "So smart you ended up in this life, fucking hurting useless people and whatever. Yeah, you have all your shit together, don’t you?"

 

Mingyu’s brows knit tight too. "Holy shit, do I have to fuck you stupid every time to have you shutting up and forgetting about this for a moment?” he says all antsy. “I'm giving you a heads up. Don't want you having no choice but to move out or run away because someone has attacked you after learning you're important to me.”

 

He gets it.

 

Most guys in this business have bitches. Minghao has at least five; Seokmin, another two. Jihoon has none, because loneliness serves him well. But this is different, not like this at all. This isn’t a onetime thing. This is as good as it gets — a solid, no running away from each other when shit gets bad, no cheating or sharing relationship. Hawk eyes notice the bond they share, it doesn’t matter how many rules regarding PDA they’ve settled.

 

They’re both guys and living with another man for three years doesn’t fit the world’s view of what being a real man is. In addition, Mingyu has inherited foes from working for Jihoon and another few of his own too. Touches and words are pretty much forbidden. The world isn’t their home and they’d rather be prepared to crash and burn than to be caught by surprise.

 

The world wins. Not once, but twice.

 

Wonwoo rolls on his side to face Mingyu properly and takes in the apologies written all over his face.

 

"I don’t want you moving out,” he confesses. “You’re full of shit but tell me one time I’ve given enough fucks to consider having you around a potential threat to my safety. I can take care of myself. I'm my own person, I know how to use my words, I can fight for myself and I don’t need your protection. You have your ways to stay out of trouble but I have mine too."

 

Mingyu inhales softly and that smile makes a comeback. "You’re a hard nut to crack. You’re insane, ya know that? Any other person would have gotten fed up and fled by now, gone anywhere else away from this city. From me."

 

Wonwoo flutters his eyes closed when Mingyu lands his hand on his scalp and messes up his wavy hair even more.

 

"Not like I have anywhere else to go.” After a moment's pause, he adds, “or you'd let me do that anyways. You'd hunt me down around the globe because you can’t stand knowing I'm away. Both mentally and physically. Any other person would run, yes, but they wouldn’t be as into you as I am anyways. It must be love, right?"

 

"It must. I really like how you say the things that you say,” Mingyu says with a hint of adoration and his fingers comb Wonwoo’s hair backwards until he can feel his forehead being revealed. “I’m thankful for having found me someone with some brain instead of just flesh and bones.”

 

Wonwoo hums with satisfaction.

 

Mingyu mimics him and gets up to stretch, arms up, in sequence. The man circles their bed to pick him up bridal style. Wonwoo protests and kicks the air, but is carried inside the bathroom nevertheless.

 

 

 

 

 

 

He sits on bed with a leg on top of it and other dangling from the edge, washed up now, hair smelling as his favorite shampoo, skin fresh and clean. They have changed the bed sheets to a new set as well and dumped the cum-stained ones in the hamper kept in the kitchen. They don’t own a washing machine but with all the bedding they stain with their body fluids weekly, they’re often visiting the laundry on their building’s basement. 

 

He’s watching Mingyu slip inside clean clothes in the space between the door of their apartment and the tiny space they call their bedroom.

 

"What's that?" he gestures to the package Mingyu tucks inside the nightstand drawer once he is dressed. His gun is back to his pants.

 

"Money."

 

"But—"

 

Mingyu cuts him off, "I'm more than well-acquainted with your thoughts about the origins of my money. I don’t mind, I'm being serious here. If anything happens, may it be sooner or later, use it to get as far as you can."

 

Wonwoo is being fixed with this stern look that is rare. Mingyu's serious.

 

They have not discussed it, where Mingyu is heading off to, if he’s indeed moving out or if Wonwoo’s supposed to start feeling the pain of separation in this exact moment. But somehow he knows Mingyu is about to make it for the apartment’s exit, so he gets off bed and walks him to the door.

 

"Something will happen and this something being you getting locked up,” he protests pulling the door open. “The money. I'll use it to bail you out, I don't trust Minghao and Jihoon to do it. You don’t believe me but they wouldn’t think twice before throwing you under the bus."

 

"Told you I'm smarter than most people in this business, police included.” Mingyu is out the door now, staring at him from their doorstep. The neighbor apartments have welcoming mats on their doors. Theirs don’t, visits aren’t welcomed at all. “I don’t have my key with me, but I'll be back at around five.”

 

“Where the fuck is your key?"

 

"Somewhere at the bottom of Han River. Had to throw it away on Tuesday. I had something to do and I didn’t want to have it on me if shit went downhill. You know the drill.”

 

Wonwoo nods robotically at his reply.

 

Mingyu leans against the doorframe and folds his arms over his broad chest, then bites the inside of his cheek. “See you then?"

 

It’s cruel how he has started to notice how Mingyu’s goodbyes are often heavy of this longing feeling and the gloomy and discreet love confessions that can be read between the lines. Mingyu looks at him with these warm eyes, glint gone now. There’s only expectation of coming back as soon as possible to have him in his arms again. Fuck. His ‘see you then’ sounds a lot like an ‘I love you’ and it shatters Wonwoo to pieces.

 

"Yeah.” He inhales deeply and forces an reassuring little smile past his lips. Mingyu cherishes his efforts, his own lips softly curving upwards this time. “See you at five then.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> In other news, I still feel like continuing this work in the future (tbh I’m borderline obsessed). I’ll come back with at least another chapter to wrap up the situation portrayed in chapter 1. I have ideas, but haven’t written them down yet. So… yeah.
> 
> (maybe I’ll be marking this as finished but as I said, strong chances that I’ll be back with at least one more chapter)
> 
> Thank you for the comments! It’s awesome to know I’m not the only one who got excited about this setting haha


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